Amp
by ShinigamiMailJeevas
Summary: Dots and Dashes, a way of life and a sentence... of death. - Loose connection with "Newsflesh Trilogy" by Mira Grant.


**Disclaimer: I do not own or make money from the anime Death note  
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**AN: **Before we start I wanted to say that due to the site intolerance of lyrics, this version of the fic is incomplete to me, if you would like to read it as i intended please copy the link to it on Archive of our own. Remove all space and place the usual "http" crap in front. :)**  
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** archive of our own (forward slash) works (forward slash) 649842  
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**Suggested listening: **Dots and Dashes** by** silversun pickups**  
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**-start-  
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Matt pumped the shotgun for a second time, and squeezed the trigger with hardly a second to aim.

**.**

The thing was right in his face—Mother Fucker—and the shot went astray, clipping a piece of the drywall from the corner of the wall across from him. It did nothing to the undead aiming to bite down on his arm.  
**.**

The teeth breaking in the zombie's mouth as it bit down did not hurt as much as he imagined it would. He still screamed, and jabbed it in the head to dislodge . It took a full few seconds too long—too _goddamn_long—to push it away to a distance he could shoot at it. The rotting head exploded across the immediate vicinity and Matt had no time to check if the splatter had gotten him.

**.**

He raced to where he had last seen Mello, right before the security in the building had failed and the final defenses were battered down, broken into from the mass of bodies ramming into it. The glass breaking would have mattered less if the damn storm door had been shut. Fucking electronic circuits.

"Mello?!" He yelled. There was already so much noise, chaos, that he might as well be whispering. He shot another zombie and it went down hard. He hopped over the corpse, almost bypassing a room and did a double take—peering inside, there was Mello, Crossbow in hand and a zombie pinned to the wall.

**.**

The woman, all straggly haired and dirty, had owned a shop down the street. The guard must have let her in after the outbreak had started in town. Her dress was bloodied, torn and made her appear homeless rather than the moderately successful woman she had been. Matt yanked the pistol from his waistband and ended her torture.  
**  
.**

"You ok Mel?" He asked even as they ran down the hallway. They ran a business in the building, along with two other people. Matt had not seen them since that morning—they were probably waiting to take a chunk out of them by now.

"Yeah," Mello called back, arrow already in another zombie. "You?" Mello knew better than to glance back, yet he did so anyway.

Matt thought of the bite. "Yeah." He hoped to a God he always told Mello had abandoned them, that the Kevlar had not been breached. If he was wrong, it would mean two lives.

**.**

"Matt, the only way out," another shot, reload and repeat, "is through the garage. It is probably swarmed by now." Mello slid on a patch of blood and slammed into the wall. Turned out to be a blessing as the landlady from across the street had bolted from the doorway, the one with the broken glass on the floor, and lunged at him.

She never got a second chance. Fuck her, she was a bitch anyway.

One that could have easily infected Mello. They needed to get out of there. No telling how many had been let in before the security failed—and how many of those were now infected, if not all.

The building was old and for some ungodly reason there were manual overrides on the entire system, allowing anyone to bypass the blood tests if the guard entered the code into the computer. They had never before needed a reason to invest in an upgrade...their complacency might have gotten them killed.

Mello pulled him by his jacket down the hallway. He had been staring at the body. Why had he even been standing there?

"Matt, clear your fucking head. We haven't the time for you to zone out!" Mello snarled and took out another familiar face. He followed Mello into the stairwell that led to the second floor—where there office was. Nothing jumped out at them on the way down, though a crash was heard a flight above them. Going up was no longer an option.

They needed eyes on the building, so it made perfect sense to horde themselves in the office. Matt had long since tapped into security, as well as having his own set of equipment for times like this—times that were supposed to have never been able to happen again. It was supposed to be _safe_.

The door slammed shut behind him, locking in place.

.

Matt hunched over and heaved. Acid burned his nose and throat and he felt the hand on his back, rubbing gently in a way that spelt danger. Mello should have been across the room with an arrow aimed for him.

"Mel-" he coughed harshly, more fluid spilling between his fingers. This time there was blood.

Blood was a bad, very bad sign.

There was only a small chance that the blood, bile and fluid purge had to do with his broken ribs and nothing to do with the kevlar being punctured. He had always been shitty with maintenance when it wasn't something he ever used. He was the techie, computers were his thing, not kevlar.

"Matt, you're ok." Mello's face was in his peripheral. His tone was soothing, though he heard the fear anyway. Mello was never afraid. He knew then, this was it.

"Shoot me. Fucker must have bit through the jacket before I knocked it loose." He choked on the rest of his words. He could not seem to get the 'I'm sorry' out.

"Even at its weakest the kevlar will hold!" Mello pushed him against the wall, holding him upright, and making his ribs ache horribly. He should have been screaming from that motion. Dulled pain receptors were another sign.  
**  
.**

"No, Mel. It wouldn't. We got too complacent. Who the hell thinks an outbreak would happen here, now? Not in fifty years, we got... complacent." He lost his train of thought. His heart raced. He was terrified.

"So what if we did? This is the highest grade there is. So what if it's seen a lot of field work? A lot of stupid, irresponsible fieldwork?"

There was no arguing with Mello, he would not hear it. Even as Matt felt the nausea begin to subside and a cold dread fill his stomach instead, Mello had his jacket unzipped and yanked off before Matt could stop from being dizzy.

**.**

Mello shook his head, backing up and swearing. Then stepped forward and forcing him into an embrace he did not want—only because the amplification time was short and he did not want Mello so damn close.

Yet, Matt could not pull free. Mello squeezing so hard it probably should have hurt. He sort of felt sluggish.

"Matty." Mello whispered, as if it held everything he wanted to say. And maybe it did. _I love you. I'll miss you. Goddamn you for this. Don't leave.._

"End me." He told him. The words felt like cotton in his mouth. He glanced down at the dried blood on his arm. The wound was an angry red, just hard enough through the jacket to pierce his skin. A blood test would only lock Mello in the room with him. Pointless anyway when the truth was obvious.

"I can't," Mello insisted, and Matt had to struggle to push him back.

**.**

"Or won't?" He challenged. He leaned against the wall because standing seemed all too much for him. His arm twitched constantly, as if amplification was already working on him. Showing him, taunting with how close it was. Fuck you.

Mello was poised to argue again, he cut him off. "I love you," He smiled, a half smile as everything was strained. "Do this for me. Please."

Mello's jaw clenched and he glanced at the crossbow for a moment too long. Matt lunged.

Mello let him come, even tilting his head to the side to make it easier. His neck being bitten into, teeth cutting the flesh and pulling, biting, pulling out his flesh—hurt like a _motherfucker_.

Yet his arms held Matt closer.

There had been no hope for him once Matt's bite was confirmed. He was good, one of the best even, but the two of them _were _the best. It might have been possible to escape with Matt at his side, or watching his back. Alone... was another story.

So he held his lover, and let him take them both to the grave.

**.**

-End-


End file.
